My Grandfather Is A Timelord
by Narnian-from-Gallifrey
Summary: Anna, Jenny's daughter, finds her grandfather after being sent back in time.
1. Part 1

This is the story of how I met my grandfather - though I don't think he knows who I am - and began travelling with him and his mad, wonderful box. But first, a little about me. My name is Anna Vincent. My mother's name is Jenny and my father's name is Simon. I've never met any of my grandparents, though mum used to tell me amazing stories about her dad. I was never told what happened to her mum, but I think I understand now. Anyway, mum would tell me bedtime stories about her adventures before she had met dad, and if I was especially good, she would pull out stories about her father, the Doctor. I had asked about his name on several occasions but had always been met with the same answer: the Doctor. I understand that now, too.

My dad is a writer and he would say that the story should be told logically from beginning to end. I think that's boring and why can't we just skip to the exciting parts, but it would mean a lot to him, so I'll go back and start at the beginning.

I would start off by telling you how long ago this event happened, but travelling in the TARDIS has a way of messing with your concept of time. I'm glad I have the chance to write this all down, which is weird because I've never been one for much writing. I guess dad's gotten to me after all.

Anyway, finally things have slowed down enough for me to take the time to explain how I got here - I should take a moment and tell you that we are _in the home of Professor J.R.R Tolkien who is like one of my favourite authors of ever_ (which really takes on a whole new meaning now that I've seen so much more of the Universe). Yeah, I might have mentioned it at some point and now the Doctor has decided that after our last…"adventure" we needed a break. The Professor has been such a sweetheart too, like a real normal grandpa instead of one who's idea of fun is taking you to see the five moons of Serenity only to be taken prisoner (which means being eaten) on moon number four - Pax . Granted, it was pretty cool and I like a little danger as much as the next girl, but the Professor spent the evening telling us stories about his new book - _The Hobbit_. He explained all about Bilbo's adventures, but how he was stuck for how to get the down-to-earth Hobbit out of his comfy life and into the quest with the Dwarves. The Doctor may have helped him out with that slightly. (He's referred to himself as a 'space Gandalf' more than a few times…)

But yeah, so the Professor took off with the idea of a wizard showing up and just shoving Bilbo out the door, which is kind of the coolest thing that's happened so far. Okay, I could keep freaking out about how awesome this is, but the main thing is that we were invited to stay the night and now I'm in a bedroom in the home of J.R.R Tolkien writing down my own story that I should probably get on with and not keep rambling about.

Right, I was talking about when exactly all of this started. Well, it might have been a few weeks ago or it might not have happened yet, depending on how you look at it. Either way, it happened and that's the important bit.

Up until this event, I was a university student in my first year at an old college in an even older city. Up until this event, I had never heard of the Weeping Angels.

Aaand, of course I was just told to turn out the light. I mean, seriously? Alright, it'll have to wait for the morning…and I was just getting into it too. Ah well. Everyone likes cliffhangers, right?


	2. Part 2

I didn't have time to finish last night, obviously, so I woke up early to write this. I'll try to not ramble too much about the Professor, but I mean, how cool is that? Anyway, right, the Weeping Angels. Wait, I'm skipping ahead, aren't I? Right.

I have always been a but of a loner, not in a bad way like I couldn't make friends or something, just in that I like to be on my own doing my own thing. So, with that information, it should not be surprising to hear that that I had been heading out to lunch alone on this particular day.

I had chosen to go to a neat little cafe, not too far from the university, where I had been a few times before and rather enjoyed. It was quiet and the food was good and it was somewhere I could read my book in relative peace before class; the school cafeteria was loud and bustling with a slight clinical feeling. But, I was walking along, not really paying attention because I was thinking about…well something or other, when I got the feeling that someone was following me, or watching me at least. I'm sure you know that feeling: the hairs on your neck stand up, a shiver goes down your back and goosebumps make your skin crawl. Yeah, that feeling. I turned around slowly, using my peripheral vision to look behind me. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I was walking through a nearly empty square with a fountain in the middle, an angel statue on top.

_ That's probably what made me feel all creeped out_, I remember thinking upon seeing the statue. It was one of the city's forgotten, clearly, and no doubt there were many more in other, less frequented spots in old corners. It was covered in patchy moss and most of the finer details had been worn away either by time of the water running over the stone. That the was creepiest part - the water. It flowed out from between the fingers of the angel's hands which covered its face, making it look like it was crying.

There didn't seem to be anyone else around so I adjusted my messenger bag on my shoulder and kept walking, though I was a little more aware of where I was.

Then I got the creepy feeling again. I tried telling myself that it was just because of the fountain, but I couldn't shake the certainty that something had changed. I stopped and it took me a minute, but then I realized what was wrong - it was strangely quiet all of a sudden. I turned back around to the fountain: the water had stopped. Then it started again. Weird. Then it stopped. Then it started.

_ Probably just old pipes_, I tried to reassure myself but it didn't work. By now I was more than a little freaked out, but I was only half way across the square and I was not about to forsake a great lunch just because I had gotten slightly…completely…terrified by an old creepy statue…that I had never seen before.

I know it sounds crazy, but I could honestly not remember ever seeing the angel on top of the fountain. Not when I really thought about it. I mean, the fountain had always been there, but it had been one of those ones where the water spurts up into the air, like a sprinkler. Now it was feeding the angel's tears. I had been to this cafe, as I mentioned, a few times before, but not recently. The angel must have been a new addition…to an almost abandoned corner of the city. But it looked like it belonged up there. Only I knew that it hadn't always sat weeping atop the stone bowl. I turned away and began to walk a little faster, and by 'a little', I mean a lot.

Maybe it was just because I was freaking out, but the open plaza-style square seemed to out to double no, triple its usual length. Some primal instinct warmed be that danger was close by. I heard the swish of wings and I whipped around, bag swinging wildly. I found myself staring into a grotesque face: stone mouth open in a silent scream to show stone teeth sharpened to points like tiny daggers, stone eyes that looked through me like a dead thing but also burned with evil fire, stone hands twisted into claws with stone talons reaching toward me; stone wings outstretched like a barricade.

Sweat droplets popped out on my forehead and I was too petrified to even scream. The same instinct that had warned me of the danger now told me that to blink was to die. I wasn't sure how I knew this, but I did. However, it is awfully hard to not to blink when you've just broken out in cold sweats, that sweat is making its way into your eyes and you are suddenly pressured not to blink.

I felt my eyelids threatening to close and I tried to force them back open, but it was no use. I didn't know how I was going to die, but at least I wouldn't have to see it coming. I hoped it would be quick.

I waited, but the pain never came. I felt a shock on my arm like when you shuffle around in the carpet in your socks and then touch something metal, but nothing more. I knew something had changed, though, because of two things: one, the air suddenly smelled much fresher than the polluted stuff of the city and two, I was suddenly swimming in what I seriously hoped was water.

Oh, not again. Alright, I've just been called to breakfast. Huh, I must have been writing longer than I thought. You can really get into that whole storytelling thing. Cool. Ah well, time for eggs and bacon with the Professor!


	3. Part 3

That certainly took longer than I thought it would, but only because we were treated to more stories about Mr Bilbo and the rest of the cast of _The Hobbit. _It was absolutely fascinating and, while I will never be able to use words like the Professor, he did make me eager to get back to my own story.

Right, so I was swimming, still with my eyes closed. I opened them slowly, not sure I wanted to see what waited for me beyond the darkness of my own making. I was treading water in a large, cold lake. Thankfully, I wasn't too far from the beach, and the angel seemed to have disappeared, at least. Beyond the beach I could see a meadow of some sorts, dotted with colourful flowers, like sprinkles on a green cake. (Yes, I know I'm terribly with metaphors similes.)

As I scrambled, entirely soaked, onto the sand I wondered what any same person would: where was I, how did I get here and how same was I really. That last question became even more important when I heard a strange sound coming from nowhere. It was like gears grating on each other, or metal groaning or something. The wind picked up and blew through my dripping hair and chilling me even more than the water. Then a strange, shining light began pulsing in the air at the edge of the meadow, only a few feet from where I was standing. Beneath the light, a stranger blue box deposited itself into reality with a flourish and I was unexpectedly reminded of the Cheshire Cat. _Seriously, where was I?_

Things only got weirder after that, because a door on the box opened and a man stepped out. He had floppish brown hair and he was dressed like one of the professors from school, though they were old and wrinkled and this man couldn't have been more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He straightened his bowtie and looked around, eyes brightening when he saw me.

"Oh hello. So, you're the one it got, are you? Well, let's have a look at you then." He walked over and started point this weird sort, beamy-light thing at me that made a low hummy-buzzy noise. "You don't appear to be hurt or anything, though I'm sure a bit shocked, eh? Luckily, the TARDIS picked up some strange alien activity and we managed to get there soon enough to follow you through time and pick you up."

"S-sorry, wh-who are y-you?" I asked through chattering teeth.

"You're all wet."

"Oh a-am I? Y-yes, I g-guess y-you're right. Th-thank you f-for p-pointing that o-out, C-captain Obvious." I was probably a bit harsher than I should have been, but I mean, I had had kind of a rough afternoon.

"Okay, well let's get you warmed up them." He clapped his hands quietly and started back toward his box. "I'm the Doctor, by the way." I stopped. _The Doctor. The Doctor that mum was always going on about?_ I had always thought that he was just a made-up story, a myth that she had been told instead of the truth, that her dad and, I don't know, walked out on her and her mum or something. I never thought he was actually real. "Are you alright? You've just got this sort of weird look on your face."

"Oh, y-yeah. I'm…I'm f-fine." I stepped into the box and had a brief moment of panic. It was bigger on the inside. The Doctor laughed as I stumbled out again and circled it, trying to wrap my mind around how something could be so big on in the inside, but so small on the outside. Once I had calmed down, he directed me to the wardrobe (down the hall, turn left, turn right, turn right, turn left, down another hall, past the library, eighth door on the left) where I could find dry clothes. Thinking about it, I never asked where all those clothes came from…

Anyway, he explained to me who he was, sort of, and what the TARDIS was and how he could travel through time and space and about the Weeping Angels. I was going to mention mum, but he talked quite a bit and there didn't seem to be any natural way to bring it about. Of course, there was always the possibility that I was mistaken. I didn't think it a very real possibility and now I'm sure. But I've seen the depths of time in his eyes and I have a thought that to bring up mum would only bring home how old he was. I knew from experience that people rarely like to be reminded of how much the world has changed around them and I suspect aliens are the same, especially the ones so like humans.

So, anyway, he asked me if I would like to travel with him, and obviously I said yes. We've had a few crazy adventures, but then he suggested we take a break from the insanity and all the running and visit somewhere quiet, so here we are. Tomorrow's my birthday and all this talk about _The Hobbit_ has reminded me that the movie is supposed to come out later this year. And I've got a time machine. I think that would be an appropriate twenty-first birthday present, don't you?


End file.
